Horcrux
by XxBlueSkiesxX
Summary: As he chuckled maliciously to himself, picturing their shock, his eyes fell on the book on his night table. Ah yes. The product of last night’s escapade. The weapon that would be the key to his success and the downfall of his enemies. Soon.


A dark figure flitted between the shadows in the corridors of _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_. It darted this way and that, at times glancing around to make sure no prying eyes were following it. Satisfied that no one was around, it began making its way towards the library. It smiled to itself when it found the door opened easily, inviting it inside. This was going to be easier than it thought. As it entered the old room filled with the smell of leather and musty books, a brief moment of moonlight illuminated its face, revealing a slight boy of about 14 with dark, handsome looks and a cruel smirk on his face. Peering around in the dark, he finally found what he was looking for on a dusty shelf at the back of the room. A delighted laugh escaped his lips before he could muffle it, but he did not care at the moment. Other, more pressing matters awaited his attention and he quickly stole out of the library, a book in his hand.

---------

Tom Riddle yawned as he awoke, and sunk back into his warm bed. He was just about to doze off again when –

"Wake up, you sleepyhead! You're going to be late for class!"

He groaned to himself. Matilda. Why did she have to come at the most inconvenient of times? Couldn't she see he was tired?

Obviously not, judging by the way she started bouncing up and down on his bed, forcing him to get up or throw her off.

"Fine", he grumbled, dragging himself out of the nice, comfortable bed. He shivered as a cold breeze filled his room. Matilda beamed at him, and handed him a paper bag filled with food. Breakfast. He smiled back at her.

"I'll see you in Potions", she said, before making a graceful exit out of his room.

As soon as she was gone, his expression immediately turned sour, sneering at the doorway in disgust. The proffered paper bag in his hand was thrown into an empty waste bin, untouched. Tom shuddered in horror.

"I can't believe I'm actually making friends with a Mudblood", he muttered to himself.

Of course, it was necessary for him to do so if he was to keep his image clean. Tom Riddle, the boy who accepted everyone for who they were, not for their bloodlines. Imagine how surprised they would be if they knew how he really felt about those filthy animals staining the school's reputation, those dirty _Mudbloods_. As he chuckled maliciously to himself, picturing their shock, his eyes fell on the book on his night table. _Ah yes. The product of last night's escapade. The weapon that would be the key to his success and the downfall of his enemies. The secret to immortality._ _Soon._ The world wouldn't know what hit them when he was through with them. But until then, he had to maintain the façade of a good student, innocent of any wrongdoings. "Oh, the poor, unsuspecting fools!" he cried gleefully, before hurrying out the room to Potions class. No need to be late and tarnish his reputation, after all.

---------

As he entered the classroom of Professor Slughorn, several people greeted him cheerfully. Tom was well-known at Hogwarts. Teachers loved him, fellow students envied him, and girls swooned over how handsome he was. Anyone who had ever met him had only good things to say about him, and it was said that he would be the most successful of them. If they only knew how right they were. He made his way over to his regular spot next to Matilda, grimacing on the inside although he knew he must.

"Hey! You finally got here" she greeted him.

"Of course", he replied, not in the mood for another one of their stupid conversations.

"Did you enjoy the sugar donuts?" she asked.

_Sugar donuts? What sugar donuts? Oh, that's what must have been in the bag she gave me._

"They were wonderful", he replied, lying through his teeth. "Thank you so much"

"Anything for my best friend", Matilda giggled, punching him on the arm.

His skin crawled at the contact, but fortunately, Professor Slughorn entered the room before he could say anything. He breathed a sigh of relief. One more moment and he would have blown up at her.

"Now children, today we will be making Pepperup Potion", Slughorn was saying. "Why don't you get started, and I'll take questions as they come along"

His cauldron in front of him, Tom began reading the page which explained the effects of the Pepperup Potion and what it was used for_._

"My dear boy, how are you doing?"

He jumped in surprise. It was Slughorn, come to survey his work.

"Fine, Professor."

"Good, good"

With that, the rotund man went to supervise the other students, helping out when necessary. Tom smirked. Although the teacher might act otherwise, everyone knew that he was Horace Slughorn's favorite student. Just the way he beamed at him and praised his skills told him all he needed to know. How gullible he was. They all were. Even Matilda, who was supposed to be smart, never caught on to what he was really like. And when they finally found out, it would be way too late.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he turned back to the work at hand. Soon.

---------

It was dark in the room, with the exception of some light leaking out from a hole in a comforter. Underneath the thick blanket sat Tom, poring over the stolen book. It was amazing, he thought to himself, but somehow they had not noticed its disappearance yet. He wasn't complaining, though. What fascinating things he was learning! Apparently the only way to become immortal was to create a Horcrux, which was the sealing of a part of one's soul in an object. Once this is done, the wizard would not be able to die, even if his body was destroyed, unless the Horcrux was also destroyed.

Tom felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. Finally! The secret to immortality. He continued reading.

"Creating a Horcrux can be quite dangerous to your soul. By sealing a part of it in an object outside of your body, you are rendering it unstable, which can pose an extreme amount of danger to you."

He snorted. Of course it would be dangerous. This was extremely dark magic. Rolling his eyes, he flipped through the pages until he found exactly what he was looking for.

"In order to create a Horcrux, you must make a tear in your soul, namely by committing the act of murder. Once the act has been done, you must say this spell: _Isolo Soult Horcrux_,to isolate the part of your soul that had been torn from the rest, and place it in the object of your choice. And voila, it's done.

An act of murder. Perfect. He knew just he would visit first. "Prepare to get the shock of your life, Tom Riddle Senior", he whispered, an evil smile stretching across his face. He would finally be able to get his revenge.

---------

It was time. There he stood, right before his father's house. How he had longed for this moment, the moment he would make his father pay for what he did to his mother, Merope, and most of all, to him.

The school year had gone by faster than he had expected. He had been willing it to pass quickly, every day dreaming of what was to come. And after months of studying Horcruxes, he was ready to begin the process.

Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. The pitter patter of feet approaching made him smile. If they only knew who was at their doorstep. The old door creaked open at last, and a young boy around his age peered out at him. It was his half-brother, Tom. Before the other boy could say a word, he pushed past him into the house.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" the other Tom exclaimed.

Without a word, the wizard pulled out his wand and pointed it at him. The boy began to laugh.

"You think you're going to hurt me with a stick?" he jeered. "What a joke!"

When he got no reply, he started worrying.

"Mom, could you come downstairs? There's someone –"

An eerie green light filled the room, coming from the wand. The boy, halfway through his sentence, suddenly dropped to the ground, dead.

There was no time to waste. Worried footsteps came down the stairs in a hurry.

"Tom, honey, are you all right? I –"

Spotting the stranger standing next to her son's limp body, she began to scream.

"Tom! Tom! Come quickly! There's –"

Like her son, the woman never got a chance to finish what she was saying. A few muttered words were all she heard before a green haze settled over her and she fell, unmoving.

Now he was really excited. Once more, there was the sound of someone coming down the stairs. His father. A few milliseconds later, Tom Riddle Senior appeared, gawking at his son.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my son and wife?" his voice wavered, unsure of himself in the presence of this stranger.

"Don't recognize, me, _Daddy_? Long time no see, don't you think?" Tom sneered. "Remember me? Remember Merope? Well, I'm here to avenge her and punish you for what you did to us!"

"Look, I can explain! Please let me live! Give me a chance!" his father pleaded.

"I'm not here to listen to your lame excuses. Our conversation ends now!"

Tom Riddle Senior was now on his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, begging for his life.

"You pathetic excuse for a human. Avada Kedavra!"

And then the life of his father was no more.

Tom noted with a perverse satisfaction how lifeless the Riddle family was. He touched the side of his father's face with the toe of his boot disinterestedly. How weak they all were, dropping dead with a mere two words.

Pulling out his grandfather's ring, he muttered the spell that would isolate the torn part of his soul and place it in the family heirloom. Immediately, a sharp pain bloomed within him. He winced, but knew he had to be strong for this to work. Before long, a dark fragment, glowing with a strange, bright light, seemed to come out of him, and he quickly trapped it in the ring. The pain ceased at once.

Glancing down at the three Riddles, all of them in a heap of the ground, he snorted in disdain. Shame filled him at the thought of being related to these weaklings. No, he could not bear being acknowledged as one of them. He would not hear of it.

All at once, he had the perfect solution. He would fashion himself a new name, a name that no one could possibly forget, a name that would have wizards cowering when uttered. And he knew just what name it would be.

"I am Lord Voldemort", he whispered to himself.

* * *

**AN: Hey everybody! This is my first fanfic, tell me what you think of it. Constructive criticism would be much appreciated. I'd also like your opinion on what I should do with this story. I was thinking of making this into an eight chapter story, with each chapter depicting the making of one of the Horcruxes. Do you think I should do that, or just leave this as a one-shot? Reviews would be appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed this story. :)**


End file.
